


You Gave Me the Sun

by romansilver



Category: One Piece
Genre: I APOLOGIZE, I couldn't find the Sengoku tag but whatever, M/M, i might write a series about various songs by op characters, or the boa matchmaking service, stupid pirates being stupid, time to get back to the ol' oc fic, yall are like 40 holy shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 08:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7634002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romansilver/pseuds/romansilver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shanks and Mihawk get drunk, write a song, and then pine.</p><p>Shitty AkaTaka one shot: the sequel</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Gave Me the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I keep writing AkaTaka even though it's shit.

Mihawk should have known this was a bad idea. He should have remembered that because it was Shanks’ (and his, he supposed) birthday, it was his job to make sure he didn’t do something stupid like try to walk on the ocean floor to find his arm. (It had happened before. It had ended it Shanks saying that if he ever found a replacement arm he would flog the ocean itself with it. The thing was, Shanks didn’t even want a replacement arm.)  
But with the buzz of alcohol in his veins, and that warm smile on Shanks’ face, the one that lit up his eyes like someone had told him “Monkey D. Luffy got his first bounty,” (and Mihawk had told him that), Mihawk thought to himself, It can’t be that bad, right? It’s just a song.  
He was wrong. He was so, incredibly wrong, and he found himself cursing himself for not showing more self-control and Shanks for being stupid enough to decide to do this in the first place. Because when his den den mushi rang, he picked it up, and in a voice that was unmistakably his, it sang back, “You don’t know what you do to me, make me hate you and love you all over again, a thousand times a day.” And Mihawk wanted to laugh, because even drunk him knew that Shanks was grabbing his emotions and twisting them up until he didn’t know what he was supposed to feel.  
He stood up, looking around him, his small den den mushi still clutched in his hand. He was on the deck on Shanks’ ship, surrounded by nothing but the gentle sound of waves lapping against the side of the boat. He looked to the bow, Benn Beckman looked back at him with an expression of Boy am I sorry about what you went through last night. He nodded to Beckman, before departing the ship and climbing onto his own small vessel, Shanks’ voice, the words “If only you knew that for every one time you smiled, it feels like I’ve lost a thousand breaths,” following him, haunting him. How had Shanks gotten that romantic. Shanks didn’t just say things for the sake of saying things. He meant what he said. Or, well, sang.  
Mihawk suppressed the curiousity as to who had gotten Shanks into enough strife to sing a duet with Mihawk on his birthday. It wasn’t any of his business, anyway.

Shanks woke up in his cabin. He hadn’t made it to the bed, instead, he was sprawled across the floor, his head resting against the floor. He could barely remember his birthday night, just drinking with the crew, with Mihawk. And golden eyes which had a distant look. He remembered Mihawk singing, a deep, heavy, raspy voice that felt stronger than Shanks’, even though his was so much louder.  
He fumbled for the den den mushi as it rang. He picked up, and it was his voice, his loud, full voice that sang back, “Sometimes I just want you to look at me and realize you don’t need to be the best to be the strongest.” Thinking back on that, no one would really understand that, but it made sense to Shanks. And that’s what mattered really.  
He exited his cabin and made his way to the deck, blinking at the sun. It pierced his eyes, worsening his headache. He swiveled his head around, eyes squinting, searching for something, for someone. Benn came up behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “He’s gone, he left early this morning.” Shanks felt his shoulders slump.  
He knew he should be lucky Mihawk came to see him at all, considering that Mihawk was about as close to a hermit you can get, living in a creepy castle on a deserted island, but that didn’t stop the way he felt melancholy after he left, after he was drinking and glaring and just existing so close to Shanks. Shanks looked back at Benn, who looked at him with concern. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?” he asked. Benn nodded.

When Sengoku turned on the radio, he was expected a lot of things. He was expecting Garp yelling things about his grandsons, or a ballad about a girl whose lover joined the marines, or even the new Marine cadet with the musical voice to be singing an old drinking song. He was not, however, expecting Dracule Mihawk and Red Haired Shanks to be singing a duet about… About what? The message was all over the place, about wanting to make people happy and about never being loved back and about people making you feel all torn up and turned around. It was an eloquent stream of mixed messages, as if a drunk person had written it. Sengoku supposed two drunk people had. That was the only way in hell Dracule Mihawk would sing. (Believe him, he had tried to make it happen before, for a Marine talent show. The result was not pretty.)  
As much as Sengoku hated to admit it, the song wasn’t half bad. The voices were very different, but complementary, Shanks’ being filled with joy, and hope, and pure adoration. Mihawk’s was different, filled with despair and longing and a deep-seated grief one only felt when they felt like they were watching their life from the outside. It was chilling how different they were, but how well they fit together. “Maybe one day, you’ll look at me and realize that I look at you like you’re the ocean, deep and dark and ready to drag me under and smash me against the rocks,” Shanks sang, his voice so filled to the brim with emotions it made Sengoku emotional, and the last thing he needed was to feel emotional over the feelings of some upstart pirate brat.  
“Maybe one day, you’ll look at me and realize I look at you like you’re fire, bright and hot and burning so bright you strip away my defenses and leave me as exposed as you always are,” Mihawk replied, and it hit Sengoku just like Garp’s fist to the face. Those two brats were singing about each other. This was worse than he thought. Way worse. The last thing he needed was his strongest Shichibukai getting dragged around by that Yonkai monster. But deep down, Sengoku realized he could do nothing about it. And he wasn’t worried. Mihawk might have been dragged to hell by Red Haired Shanks, but he wasn’t stupid enough to let it get in the way of work. Now if it had been Boa Hancock and Monkey D. Luffy, however…

Makino heard the song the first day it came on the den den mushi radio. She turned it up, smiling. She knew exactly who Shanks was pining over, had spent enough time telling him to “just go for it” that she knew he meant every word he said. How he had gotten Mihawk, the object of his undying affections, to sing a song about undying affections with him, she would never know. But she figured it was just part of his charm.  
It would be a good song to dance to, she thought, the rhythm slow enough that the dancers could focus on each other, but fast enough to keep up the dance. She knew as soon as it had finished that she was gonna have quite a few customers, so she started pulling out her extra mugs. Shanks was gonna drop by for advice, after all.  
Only a few hours later, she heard the rowdy voices outside the bar. Shanks and crew burst in, and she greeted them with a cheery smile. They took their seats, and Makino started passing out the drinks. Loud raucous laughter filled the previously peaceful bar, but Makino couldn’t say she liked it quiet. She walked up to Shanks. “Any progress?” she asked, kindly. Shanks shook his head. “He loves someone, that’s for sure. I’ve never heard him talk like that before.” Makino patted his back. She didn’t know Mihawk, personally. Shanks had offered to introduce them, but she had declined. She didn’t want to bother him. But she could tell, from what she knew, that whoever it was who had Mihawk like this, they were very lucky.  
“Would he die for them?” Makino didn’t know why she was asking. She was curious. Shanks had said that if he met someone he truly loved, he’d put his life on the line. Shanks laughed, a short, started sound. “Mihawk? No, probably not. He wouldn’t love someone he had to constantly look after. I doubt he’d pay attention to someone much weaker than him. At least in love.” Makino’s mind worked over those words. There weren’t many people of equal strength to Dracule Mihawk. Could it be?  
Makino looked at Shanks with newfound interest. The words of the song, drawled by Mihawk, rang in her head. “You smile more than anything, like the world is a game you’re gonna win, not a battle you’re already losing.” This was so much worse than she thought. “Tell him, Shanks,” she said, with more conviction than any of the other hundreds of times she said it. Shanks looked up at her, and picked up on it, because he nodded to her, thanked her, and signalled to his crew. “Okay guys, I’m gonna go tell Mihawk about, well, everything.”

As soon as Boa Hancock heard the song she knew what had happened. Dracule Mihawk, of all people, had fallen in love. She could laugh, it was so absurd. She took comfort in knowing that it wasn’t her. She knew for a fact that he wasn’t in love with her. But hearing him sing, she knew he needed help. Badly.  
She knew exactly what was up. Shanks and Mihawk. Torn up over each other, singing to each other without realizing it’s about each other. And although she would have never done it otherwise, Shanks was Luffy’s mentor. So he would be happy if Shanks was happy. And so if Mihawk would make Shanks happy, she would get them together. The Boa Matchmaking Service was now in business.  
She cornered Mihawk as soon as he landed at Marineford, dragging him through the building until they reached a lounge. Mihawk looked mildly surprised and very on edge. She gestured for him to sit. He sat, hand straying to the hilt of his sword. “You,” Hancock began. “Me,” Mihawk repeated. “Are in love with Shanks.” She said this slowly, to make sure that he knew that she knew what he felt. Mihawk sighed. He nodded. “Pretty ridiculous, I know.”  
“Ridiculous? Shanks is like Luffy! Except older, and, well, not Luffy. He’s a very good choice of person to be in love with.” Mihawk quirked a brow. “You dragged me here to tell me you approved of my romantic interests?” He asked. She shook her head. “No, I’m here to tell you that you need to make a move.” His eyebrows shot up, his eyes shining with amusement, disbelief, wariness, and confusion. He wasn’t as stoic as everyone thought. His eyes betrayed it all, if you knew the right way to look him in the eye.  
Mihawk sighed. “I can’t risk it. I can’t risk my job, my dignity and my title for a stupid pirate who wouldn’t understand even if I told him.” Hancock almost snorted. He wouldn’t understand? This was the guy that had sang “You’re eyes reveal the blood in you, that of gods and worlds beyond me.” He clearly understood. Hancock stared Mihawk dead in the eye, and enunciated, clearly, so he didn’t mishear a syllable, “If you wouldn’t take a risk for love, what would you risk?” Mihawk looked back at her. A moment of tense silence passed, before Mihawk stood up. He nodded to Hancock. “Thank you,” he said. And he left.  
He was gone before Hancock realized she wasn’t able to threaten him not to break Shanks’ heart, because that would break Luffy’s heart, which would in turn break hers.

Three weeks had passed since their song had come out, and it was still everywhere, beating out the Marine classic “Shove a Gun Up A Pirate’s Ass” and Scratchmen Apoo’s “This Is Me Crying Over My Lost Fucks.” Shanks travelled aimlessly, waiting for Mihawk. He knew it was pointless to follow him. If he trapped him back at his castle, Mihawk would just get defensive. So he waited.  
It was nearing sunset when the little boat got spotted approaching their island. “Dracule Mihawk!” came the call, and Shanks scrambled to his feet. He bound down to the beach, body filled with energy. His feet hit the sand, and he was walking towards the figure tying up the boat. “Mihawk!” he called. The other man’s head snapped up, eyes stormy. He stopped.  
Mihawk nodded to him and came closer. “Shanks, we need to talk.” Shanks’ heart sunk. He nodded. Mihawk stepped closer to him, standing a few feet away. His eyes shimmered with anxiety. Why was he anxious?  
“Shanks,” he started. “You’re different.” Shanks frowned. “You don’t need me, but you still want to be around me. I know I’m not the best company, but…” He trailed off then.  
“Listen, Shanks, all I’m saying is that I think of you as more than a rival, and a friend. You’re more.” He stood still, watching his face, and Shanks felt blindsided. Was it as simple as that? Did he just…?  
“So you’re saying you love me?” Shanks ventured, cautiously exploring the topic, even though he could barely hear himself over the blood rushing in his ears. Mihawk nodded, expecting something. Expecting a rejection.  
Shanks grinned. “That’s pretty neat, because I love you too!” He bound forward, wrapping his arms (well, arm and a half) around the swordsman. Mihawk wet rigid with shock, before relaxing, fitting his arms around Shanks. It was weird, hugging him. He was cool to the touch, a sensation soothing the the blood boiling in Shanks. It felt nice, having the swordsman in his arms. It felt right. And in his mind he sang, “The world could end but it’d be alright if I had you in my arms.”

To say that Shanks hugging him was unexpected was an understatement. It was warm though. It felt like home, not his castle, but like laughter and campfires. It felt safe. And so Mihawk chased the feeling, grabbing Shanks’ face and kissing him, lightly. And Shanks looked at him with starts in his eyes, like Mihawk was air and he was breathing for the first time. “How many times have I looked at you watch something else with stars in your eyes and wondered what it would be like if you looked at me like that.”  
Two hearts, two minds, two men, two voices, sing as one, “You gave me the sun. I looked at it and decided it would never shine as bright as you.”


End file.
